ANGEL: Who's the Dead Boss?
by Tharpdevenport
Summary: Old tragedy from Angel's first year in LA comes back to haunt him. Wolfram & Hart get a new boss while Angel "vacations".
1. Chapter 1

Angel sits at his office desk, trying t go through papers. Spike sits across from him in a guest chair.  
Spike repeats _again and again_ while nodding his headed side-to-side, "Ponce, ponce, ponce, ponce. Ponce, ponce, ponce, ponce. Ponce, ponce, ponce, ponce. Ponce--"  
"Spike -- do you have to do that?"  
"Yes. Ponce, ponce, ponce, ponce. Ponce, ponce--"  
"Spike -- you're really starting to get on my nerves."  
"That's the general idea. Ponce, ponce, ponce--"  
"I liked you better when you were a ghost. No, scratch that -- _dead_."  
"Technically I am dead, you daft git."  
"_Dead_ dead."  
"Ah," nods his head, "the ultimate kind of dead. Unless you're Buffy. Buffy again, you, Buffy a third time, Darla, place holder for Buffy a fourth time--"  
Stops going threw the papers ands looks Spike in the eyes, "Don't use her name in this office. In fact -- I don't want to hear her name escape your lips in my presence. Got that?"  
"When was the last time you got laid? Aside from Eve. The last century? You know, one day you might wake up and find it doesn't work anymore."  
"Yes ... I had a friend who once mentioned something like that."  
Just then Wesley walks in with an open vanilla folder holding papers.  
"Good morning all," Wesley says while reading.  
"Morning Merry Poppins," says Spike .

Angel shifts gears and perks up at the site of the papers, "Is that today's news?"  
"Yes, just got it a bit ago."  
"All right, tell me what's happening."  
"There's a group of vampires subletting rental units in exchange for blood; seem peaceful enough -- at least they haven't drained anybody. Reportedly."  
"Low priority. What else?"  
"Reports are still coming, but apparently Andrew and a group of slayers stopped the Cleveland Hellmouth from being opened."  
Spike comments, "There's a healthy bit of demonic activity there, so I hear."  
Angel replies, "We got enough problems in LA; let Giles and his team take care of it."  
"Right. Three vampire attacks last night. A warrior demon named Cavakis arrived this morning to kill you."  
"Tell him to take a number," Angel adds non chalantly.  
"But," Wesley reads aloud, "he got hit by a speeding buss. Extraction team found him dead on the scene."  
"Remind me to send a thank you letter to the buss driver."  
"A community of mixed-heritage demons were found dead on the island of Briole; it's off the coast of Equador."  
"The Scourge."  
"Yes..." Wesley briefly looks at Angel confused, "one dying member said The Scourge was responsible for the massacre. How did you know?"  
"I just did. Form a task force; I want that Scourge troop killed."  
Wesley cautions in a warning tone, "Angel, The Scourge number in the tens of thousands. It's best we not declare war with a demon army."  
Spike interjects, "And if we do, don't even _think_ about asking me to wear an amulet."  
"Spike, no one is talking to you. I don't need to hear your thoughts on this, my penis, or anything else."  
"You were thinking about his ... todger?" comments Wesley.  
"The hell you do. You're about to declare war on The Scourge."  
"Don't tell me how to do my job."  
"I can and I will. You people may hate me, but I actually care somewhat for all of you, and we're all fighting on the same side."  
"You think you can do a better job than me?"  
"I've managed to stay alive this long, right?"  
"Fine," picks up the phone, "Gunn, I need you in my office. Bring legal papers."

"Short answer -- Spike can't be the boss. But--"  
Spike interrupts Gunn, "Buts are nice."  
"There is a loop hole. You got 12 paid-days leave accumulated, and if you take some of those, you have to appoint someone to be in charge while off."  
"He's always off," adds Spike.  
"Spike, quiet," commands Angel. "So, I can name him temporary acting president?"  
"Yup," but why in the fluffy heavens would you want to?" asks Gunn.  
"Teach him a lesson."  
"Couldn't we just cast a silencing spell upon him?" asks Wesley.  
"Tempting, but..." stands and walks around his desk, "you're the boss."  
"Damn straight I am," and with that Spike walks around and sits in Angel's chair. He starts moving things around on the desk.  
Fred walks in, flipping through papers.  
"Hey, Angel, I got some papers I need you to sign and," looks up, "wh ... why is Spike sitting in your chair?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Here, here, and here. And your signature here," Gunn points to a spot on a piece of paper.  
"Done, and done. What executive order did I just execute? Sanction a demon horde? Put a hit out on a baddie? Issue a mystical binding spell?" asks Spike.  
"An order for more pens for the legal department," replies Gunn.  
"Oh. Why not just go buy some?" Spike asks.  
"Funny enough, we have a hard time finding pens with sheep, and female virgin blood at Office Depot," says Gunn with a half smile.  
"Ponce!" Angel exclaims.  
"Huh?" says Gunn.  
"That's what Spike is: a ponce."  
"Can't you vacation somewhere else?" says Spike.  
"I'm sure the Powers That Be would love to hear about you kicking me out of the building."  
"Fine."  
"Ponce."  
"You already said that."  
"Wanker."  
"Now you're just being pathetic," comments Spike.  
The intercom sounds.  
"Ah, boss, someone here to see you," comes Harmony's voice.  
"Send him in."  
Angels blurts out, "You didn't even ask who it is; what if it's arm--"  
"Bugger off, vacation boy."  
The doors open to reveal the stranger. Angel stands and exclaims, "Oz," and stands up.  
"Angel. Nice office. Read in the papers you were CEO of Evil now."  
"Technically, I'm the boss right now," says Spike.  
Oz replies, "Tony Danza is the boss; you're just Spike."  
Gunn nods his head and says, "Sounds accurate to me."  
Spike gives Gunn evil eyes.  
"Wolfram & Hart made me the offer a year ago. Decided to put their resources to our use, instead of them always used against us."  
"Death to the corporate machine. You're supposed to high-five me when I put my hand up like this. It simulates coolness," says Oz to Angel.  
Gunn high fives him.  
"How'd you even get in? Aren't you a werewolf or something hairy?" asks Spike.  
"Spent some time with monks in Tibet. Learned to center myself. Haven't been a werewolf in two years.  
"Gonna have security fix that right now," Spike presses the intercom button, "Harmony?"  
"Blondie Bear?"  
"Never mind," lets go of the "Send" button, annoyed.  
"Saw Wesley on my way up. He's changed," says Oz.  
"Ask him about his rouge demon hunting days. Let me know what the look on his face was," says Angel.  
"Can do. Where's Cordelia? And that Doyle fellow?"  
Angel looks down, "They're both dead."  
"Sorry man. Doyle seemed like a nice guy."  
"Thanks. What brings you to LA?" Angel looks back up.  
"Was looking for Willow. Went to Sunnydale and there was a big honkin' creator where it used to be."  
Spike chimes in, "Yeah, sorry about that -- my fault; saving the world and all."  
"They move around quite a bit. I don't even have Giles' current number. Ask Wesley -- he can put you in contact with Andrew. He's a Giles -In-Training," says angel.  
"One of the monks had a vision. Said the Lamp of Adeallous will be excavated here tomorrow."  
"Never heard of t," angel comments.  
Everybody is suddenly surprised to hear Wesley's voice, and turn to see him, "The Lamp of Adeallous. A 17th century wizard named Armin Adeallous found a rather clever way to hide himself from his enemy bent on his destruction -- he imprisoned himself in a lamp forged with then indestructible material. Mythology has it he who frees him from the lamp will be granted three wishes. An element of which that has found it's way into story telling to this day."  
"I call dibs," blurts out Spike.  
"You can't call dibs on a human being," rebukes Angel.  
"I can if I'm the boss."  
"Temporarily."  
"And don't you forget it."  
Everybody is silent, thinking about the wishes.  
"And Giles thought _we_ were all screwed up. Can't hold a candle to you guys. Which, literally, I can't do to nearly half the people in this room," says Oz.  
"I like this guy," says Gunn with a smile.  
Oz and Gunn shake hands.  
"Can't be too many excavation sites around, even a hundred mile radius. Suggest we check excavation permits for a fifty mile radius and bring ground-penetrating radar," says Wesley.  
"Right, you get on that," says Spike.  
Angel clears his throat.  
"What?" asks Spike.  
"Me? Nothing. I'm on vacation."  
"Well, start acting like it."  
Gunn adds, "Maybe a mystic can detect any ambient magiks."  
Angel clears his throat again.  
"You should really have Fred check that out," says an annoyed Spike.  
Wesley chews on his glasses, a habit picked up from Giles, "Maybe even check new construction ground breaking."  
Angel once again clears his throat.  
"What? What?! Dear Master -- does anyone have any ideas they'd like to share with the class???" Spike shouts out.  
"This is Wolfram & Hart -- did it ever occur to you that along with all the _other_ potentially deadly items this firm hunts down and collects each year that maybe, just maybe, we might be involved currently in funding an impending dig?" raises his eyebrows and looks at everyone.  
"Oh," says Wesley.  
"Hum," goes Gunn.  
"Obviously," says Oz, nodding his head.  
"That sounds like an intelligent, well thought out and articulated idea, Angel. Keep up work like that and you'll move up in the brooding souled vampire world. Everybody knows what to do."  
"Right," Wesley walks off.  
"I'll check funding contracts," says Gunn.  
"I'll vacation," Angel says passively.  
"Come on," Gunn says to Oz, "I'll show you around."  
Only Spike and Angel remain in the office.  
"Well, that wasn't so hard. I guess I'll go take a break," says Spike.  
"After ten minutes of work? The majority of which you sat there and did nothing."  
"What can I say? I earned it," and gets up.  
"Can't."  
"Pretty sure I can, mate."  
"You got reports to read, papers to sign off on, two meetings, and a progress report to write to the corporate office."  
Spike sits back down and grabs a pen & paper, scribbling on it while saying aloud, "Dear Corporate, Everything is honky dory. STOP. Regretfully yours, The Good Guys."  
"Spike..." says Angel.  
Tosses the pens aside and plops back into the chair, "Balls."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ponce," say Angel while sitting across from Spike.  
"You're not going to get to me," Spike comments while signing some papers.  
"Oh no, of course not. There's _no way_ I could get to a man who went from William the Bloody -- genocidal vampire killer who prayed upon countless lives, man, woman, or child, to Blondie Bear. Blondie Bear -- has sort of a nice Teletubbies ring to it."  
"Not going to work..."  
"Now I guess I'll go do something completely useless, then go die my hair Supernova 50, followed by a three hours styling session," Angel gets up and walks away.  
"For your information it takes an hour, tops!" Spike shouts out to him.

...  
Oz and Gunn walk down a busy hall, talking.  
"How long have you known Angel?" asks Gunn.  
"About three years," Oz replies.  
"What was he like back then?"  
"Wore a lot of black. Brooded a lot. Your basic inner anguish. Though he did use to date Buffy a lot."  
"Who's Buffy?"  
"You don't know?"  
"No, I've known the man four years now and this is the second person today mentioned from his past he's not told me of. Guy never opens up."  
"Just wait until he's Angelus -- then he'll never shut up."  
"Been there, done that. So Angel actually used to date?"  
"Yup. Buffy Summers. She's a Slayer."  
"Angel dated a vampire Slayer? That's messed up. Dude must have pain fetish."  
"I heard she ran him threw with a sword and he got back together with her," says Oz.  
"And that confirms it. Hey, listen, I got to go check those dig orders; see that lab over there? Our own little Dorothy works there. You can hang out until we're ready to go. Been fun chatting, Oz."  
"Same," he waves to Gunn, who leaves.

Oz enters the spacious lab area. He walks around slowly, looking at what people are doing. Some employees look at him, while others continue to work. Oz's eyes catch a yellow glowing orb. He looks at it. He moves his hand in closer to feel any radiant anything. Werewolf hair grows ot of his hand, which he withdraws quickly; the hair recedes back in.  
"Whoa," he says aloud to himself. He continues around to a red laser beam going from one unit to the next. He moves in closer and the red light reflects in his eyes, "So this is where the _'Star Trek: The Next Generation'_ props went to."  
"Don't touch that!" a warning comes out from behind.  
Fred comes running over.  
"It's a hard-light pulse beam; stick your head in there and it will be the last thing you ever do."  
"Pleased to meet you too," says Oz.  
"Oh, sorry, I just, ah ... well, safety is the Number One priority in this lab and it's been eight days since anyone died from an experiment gone wrong. Not that experiments go wrong often in my lab, in fact very few people have died on my watch. That's not to say few people means it's trivial. Or their lives trivial. Angel usually stops me at this point."  
"Eh, you seemed to be on a roll."  
"thanks, I guess. I'm Fred," smiles and offers a hand.  
"Oz," shakes her hand.  
"Oz ... that's an interesting name. Anybody ever tell you you look a lot like that Seth Green guy?"  
"Sometimes, but I could never be that handsome."  
"Yeah. So, was there something you needed?"  
"No, just checking things out."  
"Oh, if you're an inspector, it's true what I said about the deaths."  
"Gunn told me I could hang here."  
"Are you a friend of Gunn's?"  
"I am now, but I came here to see Angel."  
"So, you're Angel's friend?"  
"More of an acquaintance. Just came here to warn him, and get some information."  
Wesley walks into the lab.  
"Fred, I was wondering if we have any of those ground-penetrating radar units to ... oh, hey Oz."  
"Hey."  
"You're still here?"  
"Yeah, gonna help you guys with that pesky gennie thing."  
"Oh, thanks."  
"So ... I heard you were a rogue demon hunter..."  
Fred turns to Wesley, looking confused, "What's a rogue demon?"

...  
A triade of ugly demons leave Spike's temporary office. He waves them off; Angel stands leaned against the wall a few feet off.  
"Don't worry about a thing -- we'll definitively have that sacrificial virgin ready in time for the séance!"  
They enter the elevator and after the doors close Spike turns hsi head to Angel.  
"Where in the hell are we going to find a bloddy virgin in LA?"  
"Don't look at me -- you're the boss."  
"Guess we could try one of those local all-girl catholic schools; assuming they haven't all been molested."  
"Or you could just kill the demons," says Angel.  
"Oh, it's a thought, but as the boss I feel a responsibility to please out evil clients."  
"And I'll feel the responsibility to slice off you head after your tenure."  
"Not quite the severance package I was hoping for..."  
"Found it," Wesley calls out as he dashes to Angel. "A local construction site is being financed by Wolfram & Hart's subsidiary bank. I just got off the telephone and they're starting early. In fact, they've already stopped for lunch."  
Spike looks pissed, "Why are you talking to him?"  
"Sorry Wesley, I'm still on vacation. Got to talk to Spike."  
"You can't be serious?" looks at Spike, then back at Angel, "Really?", then does it again. "Very well then," he steps over to Spike, "So--"  
Spike interrupts, "Stop. Call me sir," folds his arms.  
Wesley looks back at Angel with annoyed glance, then back at Spike, "Sir ... I was thinking we tell them to take the day off and then go there to retrieve the lamp."  
"Just what I was thinking," Spike replies in a cocky manner, "very well -- make it so."  
"I'll go get the team," Wesley moves off.

...  
The gang all sit in a company van. Wesley in the driver's seat, Fred next to him, angel and Spike in the next row, and Oz sitting with Gunn in the one after.  
"Wow. I can't believe this lamp thingy grants three wishes," comments Fred aloud.  
"Actually, the wizzard does upon his freedom," Wesley turns left.  
"Turn left," the GPS unit says.  
"I already did."  
"What would you all wish for?" asks Fred.  
Wesley chimes in first, "Well, I guess world peace and wealth are out of the question as one: we'd be out of a job, and two: the money has to come from somewhere or else it causes inflation. Inner health, reasonable happiness sound good. And a Harley."  
"I don't know about you all, but no more vampires," says Gunn, "Ones without souls that is. My sister back. Save the last one for a later date. Rainy Day Wish. You?" looks at Oz.  
"Pretty much just one thing."  
"Oh, listen to you all and your weenie wishes," says Spike.  
"Well, Spike, what would you wish for?" asks Fred.  
"For starters: brooding boy here getting his arse handed to him once a month, every month, for the rest of his life. And screw inflation -- I'll take lots of wealth. Possibly wish Drusilla back to life; that or a big mansion full of scantly-clad female models waiting to fulfill my every whim."  
Fred rolls her eyes, "You're such a guy; OH, naked models bending over to dust off things. OH!" she moans.  
Wesley just stares out the window, suddenly full of thoughts.  
"You have missed the turn," says the GPS unit.  
"I bloody well know that!" growls Wesley.  
"What about you then? Oz asks Fred.  
She turns to see Oz, "I don't know. Not really given it much thought. I've always wanted a pony. Maybe wish for one that never goes to the bathroom."  
Wesley laughs, "Cordelia probably would have put her wishes up on eBay," stops laughing when he realizes he has mentioned her name aloud. "Angel, what about you?"  
"Too many thing."  
"That's funny; you never seen to want anything," Fred comments.  
"Things I want wouldn't be possible under normal circumstances."  
The van stops; Wesley puts it into "Park".  
"You have arrived at your destination," says the GPS unit.  
"I know that!!!"  
"Isn't that convenient; sun's casting the next door building's shadow across the site," notes Gunn aloud.  
The van doors slide open and everybody gets out.

Lorne swings open the doors to Angel's office open and walks in, "Angel, honey, I was wondering..." looks about and sees nobody in there, "well, that was rude."

Fred looks at the big machinery and garbage piles, "Just what this city needed -- another big damn building. Heaven forbid they build a park or a garden.  
**WHEE-CHUM**. They all look at Wesley who is holding a medal detector on a pole.  
"What?"  
Spike shakes his head and say, "We have multi million dollar global company finances in our hands and you bring a sodding metal detector?"  
Angel takes a picture with a flash camera, "I'm on vacation."  
Gunn jumps in, "I'm sure all the big noise makers are in the back of--"  
"Found it."  
"Where" Spike dashes over to Wesley.  
They all gather around Wesley.  
"According to the LSD display, approximately five meters below they surface; you can see the outline here."  
"Wes, LED," says Angel.  
"Oh. What's LSD?"  
"Ten years depending on the amount," says Oz.  
"Well, everybody break out a shovel; that's unless of course Fancy Pants here brought spoons," says Spike.  
"You know, you could be a little nicer to Wesley," says Fred.  
"Thank, Fred," Wesley blushes a little.  
"You're right: Mr. Fancy Pants."  
Angel interrupts everybody, "I suggest everyone start digging before the shadow cast's elsewhere and we draw attention to ourselves."  
"He's right, let's all get a shovel," Wesley leads.  
"Bugger, guess I will too," Spike walks off with the group and stop when he doesn't hear Angel's footsteps from behind, "hey -- you gonna get a shovel or what?"  
"Me? I'm on vacation," and points up the camera hanging from his neck and snaps a shot of a pissed off Spike.

An hour passes. Wesley, Spike, and Fred dig while others rest.  
"What is that annoying tune you keep whistling?" Spike asks Wesley.  
"Annoying? I'll have you know it's the theme from the 1963 film _'The Great Escape'_, starring Steve McQueen; now there's a man's man. Wonderful movie."  
"Unless you lay off that bloody thing my first wish is gonna be that you have to whistle that damn thing everyday for the rest of your life," tosses over his shoulder a big mound of shoveled dirt.  
He stops when he realizes he saw the lamp in the mound. He bolts for the lamp, sliding in like a man going to Home Base. His smile fades when the smoke clears and he sees angel's right hand on the metallic colored lamp too. "Angel..."  
"Spike."  
"They both look over at a third hand.  
"Oz?" says Angel.  
"Hey," non chalantly.


	4. Chapter 4

All three lie on their stomachs holding the lamp.  
"Let go," demands Spike.  
"No," replies Angel.  
"Maybe later," says Oz.  
"Fine -- then I order you to let go."  
"You can't order me, I'm on vacation."  
"I don't even work for you," says Oz.  
"All right, we'll play Rock, Paper, Scissors for it."  
"You want to play Rock, Paper, Scissors for an ancient mystical lamp?"  
"How exactly does paper beat rock anyway?" comments Oz.  
"Well," Fred speaks up, "if it's a standard grade piece of typing paper and the rock were just your average parking lot gravel size, the tensile strength of the paper may be greater--"  
"Have you got a better idea?" asks Spike.  
"I could chop off that arm. Wouldn't be the first time I've done that this year."  
"Well, this certainly is a bit of a pickle," says Spike.  
"Looking down now at this conglomeration of greed, I'm suddenly reminded that 2/3rds of it consists of recent employers. Factoring out the vampire aspect, it's still quite disturbing on it's own," says Wesley.  
"Hey," Angel furls his brow a bit while looking at Wesley.  
"Well, these sods aren't getting my wishes," says Spike.  
"Well, none of you really are right now," Fred says to them all.  
"Come again?" says Spike.  
"Wesley and I researched it and it takes a certain set of words. It's not one of those Aladdin rub lamps."  
"You hear that? You can stop rubbing it," says a pissed Spike to Angel.  
"It was dirty."  
Wesley speaks, "So unless you know the words, holding the lamp is completely useless."  
"I knew that," Spike says assuredly, then gets up and starts dusting himself off.  
"This display wasn't pathetic at all," adds Gunn.  
"I think my third wish will be for me to be in charge..." Wesley says aloud.  
Angel starts joining the conversation, "We need a neutral third party to hold onto the lamp in the mean time," he gets up too, along with Oz. "I nominate Fred."  
"Fred," Oz seconds.  
"Thirded," says Wesley.  
"Me. What? I'm the boss."

...  
Angel stands by the lab doors. Oz strolls by.  
"Angel."  
"Oz."  
"So ... how's that vacation going?"  
"Still on it."  
"Cancun is passé; everybody knows the Wolfram & Hart lab entrance is the new hot spot."  
"Just guarding it from Spike."  
"Ah. Mind if I join you?"  
"I don't know -- am I guarding it from you too?"  
"Sorry about that. Thought I could be quicker."  
"I take it that has something to do with the unspecified wish hinted at earlier," Angel says.  
Oz leans his back up against the wall on the opposite side of the lab doors.  
"Yeah. You know, Angel, I never asked to be a Werewolf. When my date started biting me, I just thought she was kinky. I never enjoyed being a Werewolf, and I never wanted this unspoken fame of occasionally helping Buffy save the world. I just wanted to be me -- the talented band leader."  
"Almost no one actually gets what they want. But haven't you enjoyed fighting on the right side?"  
"Don't get me -- if you or Buffy call me and say you need help, I'll be there, but I prefer a some what less violent existence with only a 20% chance of death."  
"I used to think that too, but the more involved I became, and more deeply rooted evil I discovered, I found I couldn't turn a blind eye anymore."  
"Maybe one day that will be the case, but for now I just want something resembling a normal existence."  
"Then what was the wish for?"  
"Be human again."  
"Ahhh. Nothing evil, nothing self-serving, just putting things back the way they were."  
"Wouldn't you?" says Oz.  
"No, I was going to mess with things to make them better. So, than why were you trying to find Willow?"  
"See if she's changed her mind about teams."  
"Willow watched sports?"  
"Female volleyball maybe."  
"I'm not following you."  
"Willow likes girls ... I mean _really likes_ girls."  
"OH. That's a surprise. Always pictured Willow to be more of ah ... a ... sacrificial type of girl."  
"If it comes to that and we need to make a sacrifice to appease a demon volcano god, don't even think of sacrificing my girl."  
"No, of course not."  
"I'd kick you ass."  
"And I'd deserve it. But you'll never reach my ass," says Angel.  
"Worth a try though."  
Spike walks up to the doors.  
"What do you think you're doing?" puts a arm out to stop Spike.  
"Well," Spike look side-to-side, "if it isn't John and Ponch. For your information, Fred called me to come over for a progress report. So, keep buggering off. Fine work, by the way," pushes Angel's arm aside and proceeds in.  
"Ponch," Oz blurts out.  
"Ponch," angels chimes in a split second after he starts.  
"Beat you," says Oz.  
"Damn."  
They follow Spike in.  
"So, what's the deal here, lab lady?" asks Spike.  
"We've gotten nowhere," Fred says.  
"There's no text transcribed on the lamp, no mention of the incantation needed in any old text, no anything. All we know is you got to be holding it when you recite the words," Wesley adds to the report.  
"Metallurgical testing showed it's construction grade steel with iron. We figure we can break it open, but it'll probably kill the genie."  
"Awesome. So, now what?" Spike walks over to the lamp and picks it up, examining it.  
Wesley adds, "Well now ... unless we find the words, it'll have to be locked up in safe keeping so no nefarious purposes are wished for."  
"Right, so I guess _'Please'_ is out of the --"  
Suddenly the lamp trembles in Spike's hands and starts glowing. Smoke shoots out the spout like stream from a tea pot. It curves downward and oscillates like a funnel cloud. It starts taking the shape of a person and colors start fading in. The final form appears.  
"I am Omar Addeallous, powerful wizard of the lamp!"  
He farts and dust shoots out.  
"Pardon."  
"Wow," exclaims Fred.  
"I was touching the lamp! I freed him!" shouts Spike.  
"Thank you kind sir. You have freed thee from the eternal imprisonment."  
"It was no problem bloke. So, I'll take those three wishes now."  
"Three wishes? I know not of these three wishes thou speaks of," says the genie.  
"Tell him, Wesley -- three wishes," says a frantic Spike.  
"Well, Mr. Addeallous, it's been over two centuries since you self imposed imprisonment. Translated text say: _'to the one who frees me, grant three wish.'_."  
"Nooo ... that is in error," says the genie.  
"Bugger all."  
"That parchment was mistranslated. _'grant thee wish'_ -- singular."  
"Oh, so I do get one wish?"  
"Yes, payment for my freedom, as customary in my time."  
"Oh, come on -- he's evil!" says Angel.  
Omar looks at Spike, "I detect a soul, and he is with your horde; are you evil as well?"  
"Ignore the fellow -- he's my underling. More about my wish."  
"To be granted at such time you see fit."  
"Very well then. I'm going to take a few hours to contemplate my wish. Until then my servants here will make you feel at home. Servants?" Spike claps his hands.  
"You're gonna pay for that," says Angel.  
"Thank you kind sir, thank you for you gracious generosity."  
"No problem," and Spike leaves the room.

...  
Angel, Fred, and Gunn stand with Oz, who is next to his van in the company parking lot.  
"So, I guess we'll be seeing you, Oz," says Angel.  
"Catch you next potentially horrific apocalypse."  
"Please to meet you. Hope you stop by again. IT was fun having someone new around here," Fred shakes his hand.  
"Take care man. I'll burn you those compilations we talked about for the next time you stop by," Gunn says.  
"Thanks. I actually enjoyed hanging with you all as well."  
"Hope you don't mind, but I had your van gassed up, engine checked, and some minor fixes made. Also, a little emergency money in the glove box from the company emergency fund."  
"You should have gotten that wish, Angel," Oz says in a thankful way.  
"If it's any condolence, we'd trade Spike for you in a heart beat," replies Angel.  
Oz laughs a little, "Until someone else better comes along, right?"  
"Don't be silly," Fred Smiles.  
"If you find Willow, don't' tell her we helped you; Buffy doesn't exactly trust me anymore and she might see you differently."  
"Okay. I'll send you a post card once in a while to let you know where I am, incase evil rises. Take care, gang," Oz nods his head and gets into his van.  
"Bye!" yells out Fred.  
They wave as he backs up and drives off.  
"Now there's a good man," Gunn comments aloud as they watch Oz's red tail lights fade away.  
Angel just stares off into the night.

...  
Spike sighs and puts down a pen, rubbing his head in frustration. The doors open and Angel walks in. He makes his way to the desk, but doesn't sit down.  
"Come to call me a ponce again? Or have you decided on wanker?"  
"No, I've come back to disgusting."  
"Oh, have you now?" Spike says sarcastically.  
"Here we are, all wanting to use the wishes to make the world a better place, or ease the hurt just a little, and you self-centeredly want to just blow them on lavish mansions, girls, and money."  
"Well, it is _my wish_ , angel, and I can do with it what ever I see fit, like it or not."  
"It's not about liking or hating it, it's about doing what's right. For what ever reason -- and I'll be damned if I can figure it out -- you were given a second chance and you just want to greedily blow it out your ass."  
"Well, between you and Buffy, I think you've all made it very clear: I'm a worthless, greedy, blood- sucking, disgusting thing that's beneath the both of you. You want to continue beating my dead horse, go do it someplace else and sod off. I fought for my soul, I made an effort to chance even when the chip was fizzed out in my head, and despite the weekly peril you've put me in, I've stuck around to help you, you thankless git."  
"Oh, look at you -- so high & mighty. You got the soul so you could get Buffy, and you stopped killing 'cause you knew sooner or later she'd stake you. I've heard about your reputation in the demon world as killing them, so you know you're not welcomed anywhere else. You've changed a little, but you're still the arrogant, selfish person you were one hundred years ago, and you know what? It disgusts me. So wish for you mansion, or your money, or the girls, but just don't ever come back here," and with those parting words Angel storms off, leaving a rebuttleless Spike.

...  
The sun rises in Los Angeles.  
Angel walks down the hall and to his office. He opens the doors to find Wesley looking out the large office windows.  
"Angel."  
"Where's Spike?"  
"I haven't seen him this morning. But he did leave a small sticky note," removes it from the desk and reads _'Dear Ponce, you can have your job back, Sincerely, Worthless.'_. I guess that means you're boss again."  
Angel moves around and sits back in his chair. He moves papers back to his spots and say, "Is that today's news?"  
"It always is."  
"What's up today?"  
"Our insiders report the Cleveland Hellmouth was safely closed with minor injuries."  
"Good."  
"Some sort of sewer demon was spotted by underground maintenance crews, tried to attack them."  
"Looks like I have a dinner date."  
"Looks like another nest of vampires were found in an apartment building."  
"We'll check it out later," says Angel.  
"It appears a demonic spirit has possessed an actor named Andy Dick."  
"Really? I would have thought that happened years ago. Is that all?" asks Angel.  
"I think so ... oh, wait. Our overseas team found a ship full of dead demons."  
"What kind?"  
"The Scourge..."  
Angel's eyes look up without moving his head and realizes.

...

**--THE END--**


End file.
